


may all your troubles soon be gone (christmas lights, keep shining on)

by thylionheart



Series: if my heart was a house, you'd be home [8]
Category: A Wrinkle in Time (2018), Kairos (O'Keefe) Series - Madeleine L'Engle
Genre: Child Neglect, Christmas Decorating, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Season, Christmas tree shopping, F/M, Fluff, Found Family, Friendship, Implied/Reference Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Kissing, Middle School, Mistletoe, Post-Movie, Romance, THERE'S A LOT OF FLUFF GUYS ENJOY, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-14
Updated: 2018-10-14
Packaged: 2019-08-01 10:16:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16282733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thylionheart/pseuds/thylionheart
Summary: The Murrys and Calvin go Christmas tree shopping.*not a standalone*





	may all your troubles soon be gone (christmas lights, keep shining on)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is set in early December, so while it's the Christmas season it's not Christmas yet. It really is almost 99% fluff with just a lil bit of reflective angst to show how much different Calvin's life with the Murrys is compared to his home life. There will be one fic in between this one and the actual Christmas Eve/Christmas fic I'm also writing.
> 
> Also, I know it takes me forever to update, but the reason for that is that I don't write linearly. I don't write one fic at a time; I've currently got 4 more in the series partially written. So far, I've got over 14,000 words written for you guys. So please, be patient with me! I'm also going to be taking November off to do NaNoWriMo for my own original story.
> 
> This series has expanded far beyond what I ever expected, but I've also been writing much, much more than I have in previous years, and I'm having so much fun with it!
> 
> Also, your reviews are so lovely and much appreciated, especially the ones that leave commentary on the story/writing itself. Thank you for your support!!
> 
> The title is from Christmas Lights by Coldplay.

* * *

 

“What about this one?”

“Too short.”

“Okay, this one?”

“Too spindly.”

“I’m beginning to think you’re too _picky_ , Charles Wallace,” Meg grumbled.

Her little brother flitted between the Christmas trees with a cherubic smile. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little bit perfectionistic.”

A few rows down, Meg saw Calvin scouring the lot, looking rather lost. In his hands, he held a cardboard drink tray with three disposable coffee cups. She waved at him until he spotted her. He grinned and gave her his trademark three-fingered wave, weaving through the trees toward them. As he neared, Meg could smell chocolate and peppermint wafting from the steaming drinks. Calvin handed her the mocha he had bought for her and she thanked him with a kiss on the cheek.

“What do you think of this one, Cal?” Meg pointed to the last tree Charles Wallace shot down.

He scrutinized it for a moment, then shrugged. “Eh, bit spindly.”

Meg groaned while Charles Wallace skipped over and plucked his hot chocolate from the tray.

“Thank you,” he sang, casting a wink at Meg.

Calvin picked up his own peppermint mocha before shoving the tray in a nearby trash can. “Oh, your parents ran into some colleagues up by the gift shop. They said we could pick out a tree, but we gotta wait for them before we cut it down.”

Charles Wallace nodded and scampered off to peruse more trees. Calvin took Meg’s hand and together they strolled behind the young boy, sipping their drinks.

The heavy scent of pine hung in the air. Clouds drifted across the grey sky and gusts of wind caused fallen pine needles to swirl across the dirt path. It was cold enough that Meg could comfortably wear her jean jacket over a white hoodie and a pair of black leggings under her kilt. Calvin looked dapper in a polo shirt and a red cable knit sweater, which he had thrown on specifically for this occasion.

Mrs. O’Keefe had left for an overtime business trip the morning before, less than a week after her husband’s departure. When Calvin returned home from basketball practice that Wednesday evening, Meg’s dad had picked him up and brought him over to spend the night in their guest bedroom.

The next day, Calvin had gone to school with a tight smile and a superficially carefree attitude. No one had so much as batted an eye. Meg had always thought that she was the invisible one; Calvin was popular and beloved by everyone, always in the limelight, while she blended into the background and was disliked by many. Yet, she now realized, there was a certain invisibility that came with popularity. People saw what they wanted to see, and if Calvin pretended to be fine and dandy, their classmates happily overlooked the small moments when his shoulders drooped and his eyes grew sad.

Her parents had surprised Calvin after school by inviting him Christmas tree shopping with the entire family. Genuine excitement had brightened his eyes for the first time that day and he’d eagerly accepted. An hour later, the family had left for the Christmas tree farm.

“Charles Wallace, stay where I can see you!” Meg called. The boy had ducked into a different row and out of sight. He appeared from behind a squat cedar with an apologetic smile.

Calvin paused to consider a blue spruce. “This one’s pretty.”

Meg kept one eye on Charles Wallace as she skirted the tree. “Mm, there’s a big bald patch back here.”

Calvin pulled Meg close and draped his arm across her shoulders. A wistful smile curved his mouth as they continued down the row.

“This is my first time Christmas tree shopping,” he said. “We’ve only ever used one of those fake silvery trees. Actually, I don’t think I know anyone else who uses a real tree anymore.”

“It can be a bit of a hassle,” Meg admitted, “what with the needles falling everywhere, and having to water it every night or so. But it’s a tradition, and with all that’s happened, family tradition has become really...comforting.”

Calvin looked down at her. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For letting me be a part of your family’s tradition. It really means a lot.”

Meg hooked her arm around his middle and gave him a half-hug. “How many times do we have to say it? You _are_ family, Cal.”

“Meg! Calvin!” Charles Wallace bounced up and down at the end of the row, waving with both his arms. “Over here! I found it!”

The couple hurried over to him. He stood before a beautiful seven-foot noble fir, its glossy green needles curving up toward the sky.

Clapping his hands together, Charles Wallace cried, “Isn’t it _resplendent?_ It’s absolutely perfect!”

Calvin circled the tree. “I don’t see any bald spots. And the skirt is high enough to put presents underneath.”

“I think it’s lovely,” Meg said, leaning forward to breathe in the tree’s sharp, fragrant scent.

“Text Daddy.” Charles Wallace tugged on Meg’s jacket. “Tell him we’ve found our Christmas tree.”

 

* * *

 

It took ten minutes for Meg’s parents to end their conversation with their colleagues and make their way over to the kids. Her father had a long-handled saw slung over his shoulder, and after he and her mom analyzed the tree and agreed that yes, this was indeed the one, he set to work cutting it down. Calvin helped hold the tree steady along with Meg’s mother as Meg and Charles Wallace visited the gift shop to peruse the various ornaments and wreaths for sale.

By the time their parents and Calvin had fixed the tree atop their Subaru, the sun was setting low on the horizon. Charles Wallace grabbed his parent’s hands and dragged them into the gift shop to look at the snow globes he had fallen in love with, while Calvin found Meg admiring an angel figurine.

“Hey,” he poked her side. “I wanna show you something.”

Across the lawn from the gift shop sat the tree farm’s reception building. Inside, beyond the lobby, the reception desk shared a room with the tiny café where Calvin had bought their drinks. The lobby itself sported cozy leather sofas and a lit fireplace, as well as a large Christmas tree in one corner. Both rooms were empty; the café had closed for the night, and they had passed the receptionist talking to another customer outside on the porch.

Calvin led Meg to the open doorway between the two rooms and stopped. A cheeky grin spread across his face, and he slowly looked up. Meg followed his eyes and saw a sprig of mistletoe dangling from the frame.

Arching an eyebrow, Meg tried to appear blasé despite the giddy quickening of her pulse. “Hm, bit cliché, don’t you think?”

“I thought you were embracing tradition this year?” Calvin reached forward and caressed her cheek, his gaze drifting from her eyes down to her lips.

_Stars,_ she loved it when he flirted with her. It made her feel ruffled and assured and ditzy and clever all at once. As Calvin leaned in, Meg tilted her chin up and closed her eyes, waiting expectantly to feel his lips meet hers. But instead, she felt him press a lingering kiss to her cheek. Another second passed before Meg’s eyes fluttered open and she saw Calvin smirking down at her.

“Calvin O’Keefe, you little tease!” Meg burst out, trying and failing to keep a smile off her face.

Her boyfriend laughed. When Meg gave him a playful shove, Calvin let himself fall back to lean against the door jamb. 

She wasn’t going to let him get away that easily. Putting her hands on Calvin’s chest, Meg trapped him against the frame and kissed him with an eager impatience. Fingers tangled in her curls and she mimed the gesture, tugging delicately at the hair at the nape of his neck.

A door banged open nearby and the two teens startled apart. A woman with frizzy grey hair carrying a box of ornaments walked into the reception area and stopped short when she saw them.

“Oh! Sorry dears!” She let out a sheepish laugh and her face turned pink in embarrassment. “Goodness me, you’re the fourth couple I’ve walked in on today. I told my daughter not to hang that sprig there; this spot gets too much traffic. I’ll just hurry and get out of your hair. Pardon me.”

In her fluster the lady didn’t wait for Meg to move before trying to scoot past her; Calvin had to pull Meg flush against himself so that she could make it through the doorway. As soon as she left, Calvin exploded into a fit of giggles while Meg buried her reddening face in her hands.

“It’s not funny!” Meg whined, but a laugh bubbled in her throat despite her best efforts.

“It kinda is, a bit.”

Meg grumbled unconvincingly, and Calvin pulled her hands away from her face.

“Have I mentioned yet today how beautiful you are?”

“Only like, twice already.”

“Well, third time's a charm. You’re so beautiful, Nutmeg.”

It was hard to look properly annoyed whilst blushing. “Oh no, not _Nutmeg_ again.”

Calvin slipped his arms under her jacket and around her waist. “Aw, but it’s so cute, though. And seasonally appropriate. Admit it, you love it.”

“I admit no such thing.” Meg stuck her chin up in the air, trying to appear entirely serious, but when Calvin planted a quick kiss on her nose she couldn’t help but giggle.

“You are such a dork,” said Meg. She smoothed out his collar. “A sweet, charming, _handsome_ dork.”

Now Calvin was the one blushing. He gave her one last delightful kiss and nodded his head toward the front door.

“C’mon. We should get back before we’re missed.”

 

* * *

 

Boxes of Christmas ornaments, garlands, and various other decorations cluttered the darkest corner of Meg’s attic. Dust plumed from the cardboard as Calvin hoisted a box marked _Lights_ into his arms. He coughed, then sneezed.

“You okay?” Meg asked from behind him, her voice colored with amusement. She was carrying a box of her own.

Calvin responded with another sneeze. By his feet, Rosie let out a concerned mew and weaved between his legs. Meg laughed.

It took them almost ten minutes to move all five Christmas boxes downstairs, where Dr. Alex had arranged some of the furniture near the far bookcase to make room for the tree. He and his wife had worked together to set it up, and now the tree stood proud and majestic, the green of its needles accentuating the other plants that adorned the living room, and its multicolored lights matching the harlequin pillows and blankets.

Charles Wallace had already broken into the box of ornaments and started hanging them on the tree by the time Calvin and Meg brought down the last of the boxes. Calvin reached for a container of small red ornaments, but Charles Wallace waved his hand.

“Let’s start with the fun ornaments first. Then we can fill in the gaps with the plain ones.”

Not long after, Dr. Kate came in from the kitchen to help. She arranged a garland across the fireplace mantel and placed an entire nativity scene atop the piano. As she passed by Calvin, who was unwrapping an ornament shaped like Saturn, she paused and laughed.

“You have a big streak of dust on your nose, honey.” She carefully rubbed it off with her thumb and patted his cheek before walking away to hang more garlands around the house, still chuckling.

Meg snorted, and Calvin turned to look at her. “You knew that was there, didn’t you?”

She hung Pluto on a branch and bit back a smile. “I didn’t even notice.”

“You’re a terrible liar, Nutmeg.”

She shot him a glare, but there was no malice behind her eyes, and when Calvin winked at her she blushed.

A few minutes later, Calvin unearthed a lightbulb-turned-ornament that had been painted white and covered in translucent glitter. Thick black craft paint had been splotched on haphazardly in an attempt to make eyes and buttons, and a tiny piece of orange pipe cleaner constituted the nose of a funny-looking snowman. On the back, in messy black letters, was the name _Margrt._

“Oh no, no put that one back!” Meg exclaimed, trying to snatch it out of Calvin’s hand.

He held it out of her reach and teased, “M-A-R-G-R-T?”

“I was five! Give it!”

“But it’s so cute. Don’t you think, Charles Wallace?”

Her brother grinned. “It’s masterful. And I know the perfect spot for it.”

Groaning, Meg flopped onto the sofa as the boys hung the ornament front and center on the tree. “You’re both jerks.”

“Now Meg,” Charles Wallace chided impishly, “if you don’t have anything nice to say, you shouldn’t say anything at all.”

Meg stuck out her tongue and tossed a silver streamer of tinsel at them. Calvin caught it and draped it around his neck like a scarf, then sat next to her.

“I really do think it's cute.”

She only mumbled and fiddled with the tinsel.

“No, really. Remember when we were in third grade, and Mrs. Bloomberg had us all make ornaments out of like, tongue depressors and pompoms?”

“And sticky jewels and corks?” Meg rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I remember. I got glue all over my desk trying to make a snowflake.”

Calvin watched her play with his tinsel scarf. “I made a wreath out of pompoms and pipe cleaners. I don’t have it anymore, though. I don’t think I have any of the crafts I’ve made.”

Sadness filled Meg’s eyes. There was no point in asking why he didn’t have them; she knew the answer.

“That’s why I like your ornament,” Calvin continued quickly, not wanting to slip into a gloom. “I like thinking of little five-year-old ‘Margrt _’_ coming home and showing her parents the craft she made, and them telling her how pretty it is and hanging it on the Christmas tree and actually being _proud_ of her. And now, I get to be a part of that. I get to celebrate your family’s memories and traditions with you guys. I wanna focus on and enjoy that, and not…y’know.”

Meg reached forward and squeezed his knee, then took ahold of his tinsel scarf and stood, gently guiding him to his feet with her. “Let’s keep enjoying it, then. C’mere.”

Calvin let her tug him down into a chaste kiss. Together they set back to work decorating the tree until it was brimming with ornaments and candy canes. The crowning moment came when Calvin hoisted Charles Wallace onto his shoulders and the young boy placed a gold star atop of the Christmas tree.

“‘When the Magi saw the star, they rejoiced with exceeding great joy,’” Charles Wallace quoted with a brilliant smile. “Perfection.”

 

* * *

 

Teriyaki salmon, rice, and green beans with bacon sat in glass dishes on the dining table in front of Calvin. He added a second helping of green beans to his plate and listened as Charles Wallace recounted what he had learned at school earlier that day. The younger boy’s fingers traced his new snow globe, outlining the small town within the dome. Most of his food still filled his plate.

“...and Miss Park had us start practicing printing our names today, too. She told me that I could simply write, ‘Charles’, but I spelled out my _full_ name anyway. That’s fourteen letters total, which is over _double_ what the other kids wrote.”

“That’s my boy,” Dr. Alex said with his eyes shining with pride. He reached over and rubbed the top of Charles Wallace’s head. “I admire your zeal, son.”

Charles Wallace beamed at his father.

It sometimes surprised Calvin how much the young boy didn’t know. Despite having the mind of a genius, Charles Wallace still insisted on learning some things at the same pace as any other six-year-old. He didn’t want to learn how to read or write before his classmates to avoid any contempt they might hold against him for his intellect, and he refrained from using his expansive vocabulary at school so as not to isolate himself. But Charles Wallace listened well and listened often, and he had gleaned more information from the scientific debates his parents held at the dinner table and the documentaries he watched on TV than most of his classmates could expect to learn from the whole of their grade school education.

The table grew quiet save for the scrapes of forks against plates. Dr. Kate finished her meal, then excused herself from the table with a meaningful look at her husband. He smiled and glanced at Calvin. Even Meg and Charles Wallace peeked knowingly at each other.

“What’s going on?” Calvin asked. Nerves dulled his appetite and he set down his fork.

As he spoke, Dr. Kate walked back into the room carrying two thick envelopes. She sat in the chair next to Calvin.

“Alright. So, Calvin…last week, Alex and I went online and created Christmas cards to send out to our friends and colleagues. And we decided to make two different designs.”

Opening the first envelope, Dr. Kate pulled out one of the cards. It was red, with _Happy Holidays from the Murry Family_ curved across the top of the smooth, shiny paper. In the center was a large photo of the Murry family that had been taken in the backyard about a month ago by a friend of Dr. Alex who dabbled in photography. Everyone had wide, genuine smiles plastered across their faces, and Calvin couldn’t help but smile too.

“This is the first one we made. And then…” Dr. Kate took out a card from the second envelope. “We made this one.”

She handed Calvin the card. At first, the only difference he noticed was that instead of the backyard photo, the picture they used was from their trip to Huntington Beach. Other than that, the fonts, colors, and title remained the same as the first card. 

But then, Calvin’s breath caught in his throat.

He was in the picture too.

Stunned into silence, he gaped at the Murrys. Meg’s eyes were shining like stars, and her brother linked arms with her and grinned at Calvin.

Dr. Alex got up and stood between his wife and Calvin. One hand rested on Dr. Kate’s shoulder while the other held the back of Calvin’s chair. “Now, we understand if you’d rather us not send these out, in case your mother sees. We’d only be sending them out to our close friends and coworkers, and I think only a couple have a connection to your school. But we want you to know that we’d love to include you in our Christmas card this year.”

Tears sprung up in Calvin’s eyes, and all he could do was nod rapidly and shoot up out of his chair to hug Dr. Alex. A moment later Dr. Kate joined the embrace.

“Yes! Yes, thank you. Thank you.”

Dr. Kate kissed the top of his head and smoothed his hair. When he drew out of the hug, he saw Meg standing beside him with her hands behind her back.

“There’s one more thing.” She brought her hands out in front of her and presented a green, red, and white patterned stocking. Across the folded white rim was an ornate golden _“C”._

A lump formed in Calvin’s throat. He took the stocking from Meg and traced his fingers across the gold letter. “I…It’s beautiful. I love it.”

Meg’s radiant face could’ve illuminated half a city block. She looped her arm around his waist and leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. Calvin pressed his cheek into her curls and let the smell of lavender fill his lungs. A moment later, Charles Wallace ran around the table and tugged on his sweater.

“C’mon, let’s go hang it up.”

Calvin’s new stocking fit perfectly between Meg’s and Charles Wallace’s on the mantel. The adults announced that they’d take care of the after-dinner cleanup that night, and the kids sorted through the shelf of DVDs for any Christmas classics that could perfectly cap the wonderful day. Finally, they settled on _The Santa Clause_.

Charles Wallace sat on the floor, his colored pencils cluttering the coffee table as he worked on a new drawing, while Calvin and Meg nestled together on the sofa, cracking jokes and pointing out weird parts of the movie. It wasn’t long before Fortinbras ambled in from the kitchen and plopped down next to Charles Wallace. Even Rosie came sidling downstairs. Her presence was a rarity; the grey cat preferred to spend most of her time in the attic and only left to eat and use her litter box. But now she hopped onto the couch and curled up in Calvin’s lap, purring and kneading his knee. He scratched under her chin and gasped when she licked his finger.

“Look,” Calvin whispered excitedly to Meg, who giggled and shifted closer to him.

“Aw, smitten kitten.”

“Are we talking about Rosie or you?”

“Neither, I’m talking about _you,_ dork.”

Calvin kissed her cheek. “Guilty as charged.”

Rosie mewed indignantly and batted at Calvin’s hand in an attempt to regain his full attention.

Popcorn and hot cider topped off the already splendid evening. Everything felt peculiarly surreal to Calvin, and he couldn’t help but contemplate how much his life had changed since that fateful day in August when he'd obeyed his compulsion to stroll through the neighborhood, wandering about until he had stumbled upon Meg Murry and her little brother walking their dog.

He’d always been intrigued by Meg—she marched to the beat of her own drum, versus Calvin, who forced himself to play in tune with the rest of the band—but even though they were locker neighbors, they had rarely ever spoken at school. Truthfully, Meg had rarely spoken to _anyone_ at school. And yet now here she was, tucked against him with her head on his shoulder and her arms around his middle as they watched Tim Allen transform into a pudgy, red-cheeked Santa Claus.

Christmas at the O’Keefe’s had always been an apprehensive affair. They exchanged gifts just like any other family, but Calvin had learned to control his reactions. Never frown, don’t waver, force a smile and hope it’s convincing. Once, when he was seven, he had waited too long to spit out his gratitude for a football his father had given him. It had been signed by Peyton Manning, who, at that age, Calvin had only heard of in passing. Baffled as to the signature’s significance, his brow had pinched together and he’d forgotten to smile and thank his father. This poor reaction had infuriated his father, and he had yelled at his son, angrily relaying the exact price of the football and calling him an ungrateful brat for not appreciating his hard work. Eventually, Calvin’s dad had dragged him up to his room, gripping his arm so tight it had left a bruise, and thrown him inside. Calvin hadn’t been allowed to keep any of his gifts that year as both a punishment and as a twisted way for him to “pay off” the expense of the football.

But at the Murry home, Calvin felt safe. With the new seasonal decor adorning every surface, the entire house radiated _Christmas,_ and, as he looked around, he realized that he’d never experienced what the holiday should truly be: a time of fellowship and love, comfort and security. And oh, Calvin’s heart swelled to the point of bursting with thankfulness for all the Murrys had done for him.

That night, Calvin sat on his bed in the Murry’s guest room. In his hands he held one of the Christmas cards, and he traced his thumb across the image of himself standing amongst Meg and her family. After admiring it for a minute, he grabbed the roll of masking tape Dr. Alex had given him and carefully taped the card above the headboard. His eyes lingered on the lovely cursive font arching across the top, spelling out three words that made Calvin smile wide with hope and cheer.

_The Murry Family._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ♥︎


End file.
